


Pretty Guys, Hot Thighs

by BelowTheWind



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Vaginal Sex, all fics will include thigh riding, chapter specific tags in notes, general tags in here, multi fic series, thigh riding, will update characters and tags as chapters are added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:35:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25702927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelowTheWind/pseuds/BelowTheWind
Summary: Multi fic work: Haikyuu boys/reader & thigh riding kink. Description will always contain newest chapter snippet-He curls his lips in, and you see a little peek of pink as he runs his tongue between them. “Do you?” He murmurs, and he’s already setting his work down on the nightstand, gaze traveling up and down your body - bare; except for the red Nekoma jersey hanging off one shoulder, a large, white 1 pressed on the back.Kuroo sits up straighter, and you watch as he shifts to the edge of the bed, spreading his legs and resting his elbows on his knees. “I do.” Slowly, you walk over to him, bare feet quiet against the carpeting, fingers pressing to his shoulder for balance as you lean in towards him. “I was the manager, after all,” and you swing a leg up and over, slowly seating yourself on his leg, “and I say it’s break time,captain.”
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 166





	Pretty Guys, Hot Thighs

**Author's Note:**

> College!Kuroo Tetsurou/Reader: Established relationship, thigh riding, captain kink, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering (lightly mentioned), reader wearing Kuroo's jersey

Kuroo’s sex drive was through the roof. You were always well aware of that. Ever since your first time, riling him up had been as easy as showing a strategic slip of skin with a wink. Now, a few years later, as a couple of horny college kids, it was no different. 

The two of you had somehow been lucky enough to make it to the University of Tokyo - Todai, as it was affectionately called. Prestigious, high class, and strict on balancing your grades and extracurriculars. Which Kuroo, despite being terribly intelligent, still struggled with on occasion. 

Such as now, with both hands in his already messed up hair, black uniform jacket slung to the side as he lounges back, his head resting in your lap. With an understanding smile, you reach down, rubbing his shoulder as you peek at the paperback notebook, folded open and resting on his chest. 

“What are you struggling with? Maybe you can hit up office hours tomorrow.” You try to assure him, and he groans, rolling over to bury his face in your thigh. 

“Don’t wanna.” He complains. “Don’t think I have the _time_. I’ve got work, I don’t even think I’ll be back in time to make it.” 

You hum, carding your hand through his hair, and he slowly relaxes. “Do you want me to go? I can bring what you’re struggling with and take notes?” 

He lifts his head to give you a soft, tired smile, rolling on to his back again. “Honestly, you’re an angel.” He tells you, reaching up to grasp the back of your head. Kuroo leads you down as you lean up, his lips soft and sweet against yours, a few lazy presses of his lips more than enough to send shivers down the length of your spine, curling about your hips and settling low. “I don’t think my professor would accept that, though. They seem to be sticklers for us figuring it out, and I don’t want to get either of us in trouble.” 

Kuroo sighs, sits up again and runs his hand through his hair once more, picking up the notebook and his discarded pencil. “It’s fine, babe. I’ll just have to work a little harder.” 

“Maybe you should take a break? Tetsu, you’re gonna burn out at this rate.” You warn him, reaching out to set your palm on his cheek, fingers splayed as you turn him to face you. “Come on, at least for half an hour. Let your eyes and your brain rest - you’ve been at this all night.” 

He turns, closes his eyes and presses a lingering kiss to the palm of your hand. “I’d love to, baby. Really I would. But I’ve got to….” He sighs, reaches up to squeeze your hand, and gently pulls it from his face, smiling wanly at you as he sets it back in your lap with a little pat. “You don’t have to hang around and hear me bitch, though. If you wanna head out, I won’t be upset.”

Humming, you purse your lips to the side in thought, eyeing him carefully as he goes back to his work. Well. You may have _one_ idea…

Ideally, it was going to be for his birthday, just a few weeks off, but...well, you could always figure something else out. Grabbing your back, you kiss his forehead, and he gives you a short, sweet smile. “I’m just heading to change in to my pjs, I’ll be right back.” 

Kuroo blinks. “What…? But you always change- right….here...uh.” He trails off, scratching absentmindedly at his hair as you disappear around the corner.

Down the hall, you wrangle your bottom lip between your teeth, crescent indents left in soft skin as you glance over your shoulder, bag clutched tightly to your chest. Satisfied that he’s not following you, you dip into his bathroom, shutting and locking the door before setting your bag on the sink. 

First thing to go is your shirt, and you’re left staring at the lacy bra you’d purchased not that long ago, dead set on seducing your boyfriend in to one of your typically heated rounds between the sheets (or in the shower, on the counter, the kitchen table, the couch, hidden in the bushes behind his apartment building, once). 

But this...well, this would work just as well. 

Stripping down to little more than a thin gold birthday necklace (from your lover him) sitting cool against your collar bones, you eye yourself in the mirror for a moment. Setting your hands on your stomach, you frown, tracing over every little mark with your fingers, moving gingerly down to your thighs. For a moment, you’re afraid - who wouldn’t be? Baring yourself in front of someone, being as vulnerable as you can be? That’s terrifying. 

But you take a deep breath, pap your hands against your cheeks and look at yourself in the mirror again. No, it’s not terrifying. It’s just Kuroo. The man you’ve known since childhood. The one you grew up with nex to Kenma. The same one that had been mutually pining since your middle school years. The Kuroo that cried the first time the two of you made love. 

This wasn’t _scary_ , this was Kuroo Tetsurou. Your boyfriend. The man you loved, and the man who loved you. You could _do_ this. You were fucking beautiful. All of you. And he never failed to tell you as much. 

So with a slow, deep breath, you steel your resolve - and pull the piece of red fabric out of your bag. 

Back in his bedroom, Kuroo is still engrossed in his work, scratching at the side of his head with the tip of his pencil, tongue poked out in concentration. You almost feel bad about breaking him out of it. 

Almost. But not quite. 

“Tetsu,” you murmur, his name soft and low on your tongue, dripping with sin and promise - and he’s well aware of that tone, head snapping up to look at you with a flash of gold eyes, “I think it’s break time.” 

He curls his lips in, and you see a little peek of pink as he runs his tongue between them, assaulted momentarily with _vivid_ memories of just what that tongue can do between your legs. “Do you?” He murmurs, and he’s already setting his work down on the nightstand, gaze traveling up and down your body - bare; except for the red Nekoma jersey hanging off one shoulder, a large, white 1 pressed on the back. 

Kuroo sits up straighter, and you watch as he shifts to the edge of the bed, spreading his legs and resting his elbows on his knees. “I do.” Slowly, you walk over to him, bare feet quiet against the carpeting, fingers pressing to his shoulder for balance as you lean in towards him. “I was the manager, after all,” and you swing a leg up and over, slowly seating yourself on his leg, “and I say it’s break time, _captain_.”

The response is visceral. 

A hand grabs the back of your neck, pulling you forward to crush his lips to yours, taking in a deep, shaky breath through his nose, fingers curling in your hair. Your knee bumps between his thigh, and you can already feel the slight, heated throb of his cock - you _did_ say he was always easy to rile up. 

Your hips are rocking against his thigh, and he breaks your kiss with a muted gasp, a thin, glistening strand of saliva all that connects your lips. “Mm, and what is my baby girl hoping to get out of this, hmm?” He dips a hand between your thighs, catching your gasp as he kisses you again - open mouthed and wet. His fingers stroke through your slick folds, the pads of them rough and calloused after so many years of volleyball. 

Sucking in a breath, you break the kiss again, dropping your head to his shoulder, gaze dropping down between the two of you. His hand is hidden beneath his old jersey, fingers sure and confident as they zero in on your clit, rolling it playfully between two fingers. “You really _are_ wet, huh. Were you getting all turned on thinking about me? Imagining me ruining you while you were putting on my jersey, hm?” He teases just over your entrance, head cocked to the side so he can kiss your temple. “Where’d you even find this old thing anyways?”

“I-I told your family I- I wanted to...to, uh-” 

He laughs. “Cat got your tongue?” 

You manage a weak frown in response, curling your fingers in his white button up, even as he slowly starts to work his fingers into your cunt. “I wanted to make...make something for your birthday-” 

“With my jersey?”

“I wasn’t gonna-” you cut yourself off with a hiss, digging your nails in to his biceps, “-gonna tell them I wanted to- to fuck you in it.”

Kuroo laughs again, catching your chin with the crook of his finger and lifting your head to face him, golden eyes half lidded and heady. “Good girl.” He purrs, leaning it to dispense wet kisses up your exposed shoulder, the jersey half hanging from your body. Your hands both find themselves in his hair, grounding yourself as the fingers he has buried in your puddling cunt scissor and twist, scrape over your insides and coat themselves in your slick before pulling away. 

He’s smirking against your throat, pressing and spreading his fingers, silently commanding you to watch the slick stringing between them, see just how much of a mess he can make you be. 

And then he jerks his leg. You shriek, eyes wide as you bounce back down against his thigh, the rough drag of his uniform pants absolutely _exquisite_ against the heat of your sensitive cunt. “T-Tetsu-!” 

To his credit, Kuroo didn’t seem to even know what he’d done. One eye cracks open, and he hums against your skin, curious, before pulling away with a wet pop. There’s damp patches all along your skin, plastered over little marks of red that you know will bruise come sunup. “What’s this?” He grins, looking between your face and his thigh, grasping the hem of his jersey to lift it over your stomach, laughing at the dark patch of his pants. “Oh, baby. You’re fucking drenched, huh. You like bouncing on my thigh like that?” 

Letting go of the jersey, Kuroo instead sets a hand on your hip, the other on your ass, and lifts his leg. His heel settles against the little ledge of the bed frame, pressing your body weight down against his thigh, your toes scrambling to find purchase somewhere as a rush of heated pleasure throbs up through your body. “I’d say, by the look on your face, that’s a yes.” 

You manage to just barely settle your feet next to his heel, but there’s not a lot of room, leaving your toes to curl against it and hang on with all the strength you can muster. You don’t trust the way he’s looking at you, eying your body like that. You’ve been on the receiving end more than enough times to know exactly what it means. 

Sure enough, Kuroo doesn’t leave you the time to respond. You’ve barely got a moment to throw your arms around his shoulder, holding on, before he starts grinding you back and forth over his thigh. The material of his pants is starchy and rough - but you’re so fucking wet that it glides with just enough friction over your slick folds. On every tug forward, Kuroo guides your hips and your waist, rolling them forward to grind your clit over his thigh. 

“Look at you,” he murmurs, voice thick, dripping with promise as he guides you along the length of his thigh, “you’re soaking my pants. They’re drenched. I definitely won’t be able to wear these tomorrow.” He hums, and a particularly hard jerk forward has you crying his name, hands flying to his biceps. 

You can feel the muscles in his arms tensing, straining, working beneath the thin material of his long sleeves and smooth skin. It’s almost effortless, the way he manhandles you, like there’s nothing to it - and he’s not dragging an entire person back and forth over his fucking leg. 

“You’re cute like this, you know?” Kuroo hums, and he grips a little tighter to the curve of fat just above your hip, “All messy, clinging to me like you can’t do anything else, moaning my name-”

“S-Shut up, Tetsu-!”

“Mm, just like that.” He coos, followed by a playful bark of laughter. “Red is a good look on you.” He teases, and you whine, hands gliding from his arms to his chest, fingers scrabbling to get his buttons undone. 

He doesn’t make your task an easy one, still working you, leaving an electrifying current of pleasure bouncing around in your gut. It spirals out of control, as you eventually rip his shirt open, remaining buttons thumping quietly to the bed and the carpet. Hands settle against his chest, pushing him back to the bed, shirt hanging open on either side of a lean, well cut torso. Palms pressed flat against the expanse of his chest, you use the leverage to move yourself - grinding down against his thigh as that same current tingles along every inch of your skin. 

It leaps synapses, races over every nerve and prickles wildly at the endings, burning bright behind your eyes and sparking across every inch of skin with a licentious delirium. 

You’re unaware of the way you chat your lovers name ( _”Tetsu, Tetsu, oh fuck, Tetsurou, fuck, fuck, fuck!-”_ ), every thought bringing you further and further with an avid compulsion, head thrown back and all but dripping holy from your tongue like you’re worshipping at the altar, laying bare your sins as you come undone. 

When the lights finally die down from behind your eyes, you recognize the expanse of Kuroo’s chest against your cheek, your legs slung between his, and- his arousal, throbbing and hard in his pants, pressed up against your thigh. 

“Mm, you back to the land of the living?” He teases, and you hum in response, just settling in against him when he hoists you up under the arms, dumping you playfully back to the bed. “Good.” Kuroo grins, and kneels up just long enough to undo his belt - the metal clinks against metal, the sound almost like a promise - and shove his pants and boxers past his thighs, sitting just above his knees. 

“Cause now it’s my turn.” He settles between your thighs, careful and gentle as he presses a forearm in to the bed, chest muscles tight as he holds himself above you. Brushing his fingers of his free hand over your cheek, he watches you a moment, thumb running along your bottom lip. “Are you okay to continue?” He asks, “Not too sensitive?”

The gentle care even in the midst of a playful, heated session pings pleasantly at your heart, and you nod, arms coming up to slide around his shoulders. “Mm, I’m okay.” Tilting your chin, you grin, catching his lower lip between your teeth. _”Fuck me, captain.”_

The sound that leaves his throat is somewhere between a gasp and a snarl - you can’t focus too much on it, as he’s already slammed balls deep in one quick thrust. “Fuck, you know exactly what to- to say, don’t ya?” 

“You’re easy.” You manage, struggling to keep a grip on how your lungs are supposed to work when his cock keeps punching the air from your gut. 

There’s no grace period, no slow, sweet stretch - you asked him to fuck you, and he’s going to _fuck_ you. Take you so hard you’re seeing stars, hair a mess, skin slick with sweat. Fuck you till you’re creaming around his cock, clinging to him, pressing him up against your chest. Own you until your cute little cunt can only get off to _his_ cock. 

“Fit me so good, don’t you?” He growls, the wet slap of his hips muffled in the immediate space around you, insulated from the outside world by the carpet on the floor and the decorations scattered around his room. “I can feel you, ya know? Every time- every time I-!” and he cuts himself off with a well angled thrust in to your all too willing cunt, “-and I can _feel_ just how soaked you are. You’re making- making a mess of the bed, baby. My thighs. My _cock_.” 

He presses his hand against your lower stomach, fingers prodding, pushing. “Where am I, huh? Can you feel how deep I am? Show me.” 

With a whine, you guide his hand, back arching with a sharp squeal as the head of his cock presses right up against his fingers. “Fuck, that’s hot.” Kuroo looks up at you, licking his lips. _”You’re_ hot.” 

Leaning in, he steals your lips in a heated kiss, breathing shaky and unstable as he ruts in to you. “Say it again.” He breathes against your mouth. “You know what I want. Say it again.” 

“C-Captain, please-!”

You hear him growl with restraint. “Please what, baby?” You don’t answer right away, and he snaps his hips hard, watching your tits bounce under his jersey as he does. “Please. _What_.” He repeats himself, and you lock your legs around his hips, an arduous sort of agony bleeding in to your intense pleasure. 

“Please, captain, make- make me cum-!” 

Your world briefly twists in a blur of motion, scarcely able to recognize his arms around the middle of your back until you’re on his lap. “Good girl.” He praises, voice a low growl, almost dripping from his lips with the same viscosity as the slick from your drooling cunt. 

On his knees, Kuroo has little problem with both hands gripping each cheek of your ass, kneading the flesh under his fingers for a moment - even as he drives his hips forward with a new salacious voracity, burying his face in your shoulder to mark you, over, and over again. 

“Touch yourself for me, baby.” He orders, and you nod deliriously, hooking one arm around his shoulders as the other dips between your legs. “I want you to play with that pretty little clit of yours until you’re a sloppy, fucked out mess on my cock. You hear me?” The tone sends shivers down your spine, and you nod - fingers reaching down for your slick cunt. 

You can feel him moving inside you, even as your fingers tease at your clit in the way you like, little gasps and mewls of ‘captain’ punctuating each particularly sinful touch. Between your thighs, Kuroo doesn’t once let up, the muscles in his arms and chest straining as he pulls you from his body, only to yank you right back as he drives his hips forward in a lewd, enrapturing symphony of skin against skin. 

Panting, quivering in his arms, drooling in to his shoulder, there’s little more you can do but hang on and take the pounding, toes curled and muscles tensed so tight that you briefly have the capacity to think of how much you’ll hurt tomorrow. 

But it’s washed away with your orgasm - crashing in to you with a gluttonous wave, throwing you under a drowning sheet of euphoria, over and over again. Your arms and legs both find purchase wrapped around his strong body, his hands leaving your ass (along with two red marks), as his arms coil around you. 

During your ardent ecstasy, you manage to register the feeling of the bed under your back, Kuroo begging you to ‘say it again’ as you part your lips and let a slew of praise and ‘captain’s spill from your lips. You’re just coherent enough to hear the way he chokes out a grunt of your name, feel the way his entire body tenses up in to yours as he fills you with his seed, the heat of it leaving a pleasant warmth in your depths. 

For a moment, Kuroo remains pressed tight against you, catching his breath and sucking in lungfuls of air that he expended in fucking you silly. Softly, he swipes his thumb over the corner of your mouth and towards your chin, wiping drool off on his shirt. 

Carefully, he leans back, the two of you gasping in unison as he pulls himself from your well fucked opening, a steady stream of cum dripping out after his softening cock. You can feel the sticky mess as it runs down your thighs and the crack of your ass, leaking to the bed in little rivulets as it mixes with your slick. Next to you, Kuroo flops against the pillows, pulls you close, nuzzles your temple with a sleepy little whine. “Mm, do you mind if we clean up in a bit? My everything aches.”

“How do you think my pussy feels?” You fire back, still a little breathless, and he laughs, his lips trailing up and down your shoulder, fingertips softly drawing random shapes along your upper arm. 

“Fair.” He murmurs. “Do you need anything?”

“Just cuddles.” You sigh. “Water in a little bit.” Kuroo nods in response, sighing softly through his nose as he tucks you under his chin. “....So, captain, huh?” 

He laughs, tugs you a little closer and kisses your cheek with a playful, sloppy “mwah”. “Call me that again, and we might have to extend this little break.” He quips, and you grin, rolling on to your side, fingers smoothing up the collar of his rumpled shirt. 

“Well. I’ll keep that in mind. _Captain_.”


End file.
